


Hands

by VenezuelanWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel (Supernatural)'s Handprint, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s05e04 The End, Episode: s08e07 A Little Slice of Kevin, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Episode: s10e09 The Things We Left Behind, Episode: s12e19 The Future - Mixtape Scene, Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hands, Happy Ending, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Temporarily Human Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-06 02:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17930720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenezuelanWriter/pseuds/VenezuelanWriter
Summary: Dean wasn’t sure of when it happened, but holding Cas’ hand had become just as vital as breathing for him.Or: a reflection written from the point of view of their hands.





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I believe the reason why I wrote this was that I find hands extremely sexy. I’m sure I’m not the only one, so here’s to these handsome men's wonderful hands, which we don't appreciate enough.
> 
> Shotout to [upsidearound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpsideAround/works), [irrationallyexcited](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrrationallyExcited/pseuds/IrrationallyExcited/works) and [Voib](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voib) for betaing this for me ♥ All of your comments are deeply appreciated.
> 
> All tagged episodes are referenced, but there are only meaningful spoilers for the following: 8x7, 8x17, 9x3 and 13x6.
> 
> The "(x)" at the end of some sections is the link to the YouTube video with the canon scene used to write it.

**An angel’s grip**

Castiel knew this human like the back of his own hand.

After all, he gripped him tight, seeing his soul through the contact, fully healing and repairing him. He found strength, humility, and a deep understanding of the word ‘family’. From Castiel’s palm, grace emanated in waves of light to bring all of that back to life, out of hellish misery.

The process left a handprint, but it was meaningless compared to the damage it fixed.

With that hold, Castiel saved Dean Winchester from perdition.

 

**Field help**

From Dean’s hands, the demon killing knife slipped away as his sore knuckles hit hard wood. Although he was being strangled, Dean only focused on stretching his fingers so they’d reach the weapon a few inches away.

Castiel placed his hands on the demon’s head. They served as a bridge for his power, which flowed through his whole body to focus there in order to snuff off Crowley’s servant. After screaming, it fell away and Castiel offered Dean the same hand. It showed companionship, and also support.

Dean took the knife, clasped Cas’ hand, and rose to his feet.

 

**“It's the end, baby.”**

Dean’s hands clenched in fists. The ring in his right hand was almost hurting his palm from the force of his grip, but then—Cas’ hand landed on his shoulder, and he was zipped out of the motel room where Zachariah was about to attack him, most likely.

 _Yes, they had an appointment_ , Dean thought.

He relaxed, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

He wished the future where his friend became powerless and hopeless never became a reality.

But he didn’t say that.

Not out loud, at least.

 

**Ordinary nights**

Dean left the plastic bowl on the coffee table, holding a cold, sweating beer in his right hand.

Sam nudged the back of his head after a stupid joke he’d made.

It had ended like always: _Bitch. Jerk._

Cas took the bowl again and put it on his thighs. He said something about practicality and equal distances from the snack for Sam and Dean.

Dean reached for the popcorn, feeling the salt of it between his fingers. He ate it, then brushed his hand on his pants to grab the remote and hit play.

Sometimes, he was good at pretending they didn’t carry the world on their shoulders.

 

**Small victories**

Over the table, Castiel’s passed Dean the pepper. Their fingers brushed for the shortest of seconds. Dean added the condiments to his steak, then put the small container back on the table.

He held in his hand a cold fork, while in the other he raised a glass to toast.

Finally, after so long, they celebrated a win.

 

**“I did not leave you.”**

As if they followed a choreographed routine, Dean’s hands held a machete that slaughtered the leviathans in his and Cas’ way.

After some fighting, he pulled Cas by his trench coat to get him to the portal that delivered them from biblical evil. He extended his arm to Castiel, and Castiel took it. Dean held part of the dirty beige sleeve, while Cas had his fingers secured around Dean’s jacket.

A supernatural force pulled Dean to the other side of the breach, and Castiel’s hand slipped away from his with ease.

Once safe, Dean was frustrated, desperate.

But he knew that with Sam’s help, he could save Cas.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jx7MzRrvHE))

 

**Goodbye, stranger**

Dean’s fist was stopped midway by Castiel’s hand, breaking his arm and causing bones to crack loudly.

The tablet landed next to them. In one hand, Castiel held Dean’s broken wrist. In the other, he held an angel blade, using the end of the cool metal to strike Dean’s face repeatedly.

Castiel caused tremendous pain: underneath his fist, there were bruises, cuts, swollen tissue. He was not physically hurt in the slightest, but he was conflicted, going back and forth between the warehouse and Heaven.

Although his hands were wet with Dean’s blood, Castiel’s fingers wrapped firmly around the grip of the blade.

He pointed it to Dean, but didn’t move.

Dean pleaded, both with his words and with his body. His free hand was held up in surrender, asking for mercy.

Castiel had to make a choice, and it was not difficult. The blade fell from his hand, as if he was absent; automatic.

Dean grunted in pain when his broken arm was released, bringing his good hand to hold it.

Castiel reached for the tablet on the floor. As he made contact with it, light emanated from the enochian symbols on the rock.

He stretched his hand to Dean, making him flinch with fear. Dean held onto Cas’ sleeve, asking again for redemption. Finally, Castiel’s palm was set on Dean’s jaw and healed.

Simply, easily, in the blink of an eye, leaving Dean as fine as he did when he first saved him from Hell.

Castiel was well aware that the apology he offered in that moment wasn’t enough; he said it anyway, and afterward explained what was going on. He put away the tablet, announcing he had to keep it safe, and left.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_YtersdMh8))

 

**Human behaviors**

The back of Dean’s index and middle finger rubbed his sleepy eyes.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and tightened the knot of his robe.

His still freshly washed hands traveled across his face as he entered the kitchen.

Before it reached the coffee maker, Dean’s hand peeled a yellow sticky note from the table. Written in Cas’ handwriting, it said: _I joined Sam for his morning run. We’ll be back before breakfast :)_

Dean’s thumb absentmindedly traced the curves of his handwritten letters for a moment before he returned it to the table.

On his phone, he opened a recipes app nobody had to know he’d downloaded.

He wanted to surprise Cas with one of his favorite breakfasts so far: a Spanish tortilla.

 

**Human virtues**

Secured around a warm ceramic cup, Dean’s hand lifted to his lips and he sipped the bitter coffee.

He returned the cup to the counter, grabbed the pitcher from the machine and poured Cas a cup. He added it some sugar, knowing Cas preferred it sweet.

Dean walked to the library, with a cup in each hand, then handed one to his friend.

He squeezed the shoulder of the newly-human Cas, not dressed anymore in light brown, but instead in a cotton sweatshirt Dean used to own.

Maybe Dean could get used to that.

 

**Human inconveniences**

Dean set his hands to the ground and pushed himself up after April sent him flying across the room.

While she was distracted with Sam, he took the blade piercing Cas’ torso. He surprised her, letting his anger drive his movements as he did to her the same thing she’d done Cas.

The blade became meaningless at the moment; it slipped from Dean’s fingers and fell to the floor as he gently laid his hands on Cas’ chest and knee.

In denial, Dean cupped his face, resting his thumbs on the raspy stubble, trying to wake him up.

His hands lingered on Cas’ face for a brief moment. He dropped them, then stood back to tell Sam there was no way back.

From Sam’s palm, Ezekiel’s grace glowed and healed the several wounds on Cas’ abdomen.

It left Sam agitated, but Cas’ voice cracked again, in that raspy tone of his, and Dean’s hands couldn’t resist the need to touch him again, almost caressing.

Holding him while he was alive was, to say the least, wonderful.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkiUXJR2apo))

 

**“Is ketchup a vegetable?”**

The curious and examining hands returned the glass bottle to the table, as Dean answered with a blatant lie, although he used a tone just as serious as Cas’.

Dean took a greasy fry from the basket and ate it. He brushed his fingers “clean” on his pants out of habit, then exchanged his empty plate with Cas’, which had a still untouched burger on it.

Dean kind of missed when Cas enjoyed food as well, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he asked him about the Claire situation.

Cas’ hands supported his chin, thoughtful as he spoke.

Dean, with his, held the burger that technically belonged to Cas.

He offered his friend advice, telling him to let go and admitting it was the opposite of what he would do.

Then Cas implied Dean was a role model, and Dean—he just couldn’t believe that Cas, an ancient being that had seen the creation of the world, thought so highly of him.

The conversation focused on Dean, and as he tapped the mark on his right forearm and terrible memories crossed his thoughts, he realized he didn’t deserve such esteem coming from Cas.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ke2JPLfxwvs))

 

**The turning point**

Dean’s left hand held the steering wheel with confidence. His right one, though, rested between his and Cas’ thighs almost awkwardly. His fingers flexed. He wasn’t sure what he pretended to do.

Castiel’s hand landed on top of his. It tightened around it with gentle and soft pressure. Their fingers interlaced, with beautiful intentionality.

Castiel didn’t know he could sweat.

 

**“You keep those.”**

Castiel knocked on Dean’s bedroom door.

Without having gotten an answer, his right hand went for the doorknob and opened it.

It hid in his trench coat for a moment, taking a cassette in his fingers from a pocket and placing it on the table, next to Dean’s laptop.

The cassette, a gesture of friendship and of good musical taste, was held by Dean’s hand, between his index and middle finger. The arm extended back to Castiel.

Insecure hands accepted the mixtape as what it was: a gift.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xusTWYWeC0))

 

**Believe in miracles**

Dean snatched his ringing phone from the Impala bench seat. He tapped mindlessly on the answer icon and put the receiver against his ear.

At the sound of the familiar voice he missed so much, his hands started to tremble nervously.

When they finally opened and closed the car door, the emotion behind every one of their touches on Cas’ body was beyond words.

Dean’s hand pushed Cas impossibly closer to his body, embracing him in a heartfelt hug.

 _Welcome home, pal_ , Dean said, as his fingertips detailed the texture of the only piece of clothing he’d ever felt so devoted to.

He hoped he’d never be losing it again.

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URoRoo-LMrQ), [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thlAL6Zquv8))

 

**There’s a difference between loving...**

The back of Dean’s fingers caressed Cas’ jaw. Then, he cupped it in his palms, pulling him in.

He relaxed, stroking the jawline and slowly pushing the chin down with his thumb to coax Cas’ mouth open.

Cas’ hands caressed his back, settling on Dean’s waist. They squeezed, encouragingly, excitedly, and filled with emotion.

Dean’s grasp traveled to the soft and silky hair, finding home behind Cas’ warm neck.

They’d been craving those embraces for too long, and they had no interest in hiding it.

 

**… and making love**

Their hands were everywhere: circling nipples, scratching skin, pulling hair, stroking thighs—  

After a very enjoyable moment of that, Dean’s index finger was finally surrounded by lube and Cas’ heat. Then the middle finger joined it, and lastly, so did the ring one. Cas’ body fit Dean’s hand like a damn glove.

With his free hand, Dean grabbed Cas’ shoulder, slowly turning him around. His fingers left Cas, going to hold his hips in place.

Dean whispered something—words of praise, of love, of reassurance and of trust—and then Cas’ knuckles started to slowly turn white as they held on the messy sheets.

Dean massaged with his thumb the middle of Cas’ back, also keeping him stable as they made frenzied love.

Dean wrapped his hand around Cas’ most intimate, vulnerable part, and Cas’ hands became somewhat erratic, failing to support him comfortably any longer.

The hand on Cas’ hip went to his chest, holding him, and then the tugging one was suffused with _Cas_ , in inevitable evidence of his pleasure.

A couple of moments later, after wipes passed through their fingers and bodies, Dean held Cas’ face in his hand.

A tear met his finger. He brushed it away.

He didn’t worry; he knew it was a cry of joy.

 

**Regarding the box**

It had been some time—7 or 8 months, probably—since Dean’s hands held Cas in them with a fierce determination that forever changed the course of their relationship.  
  
On Dean’s bed, one of the many places with memories of their bodies being driven by passion, they laid down after an amazing and almost restless night.

Dean’s fingers caressed Cas’ soft naked torso.

Cas questioned Dean about his “suicidal plan” of being sunk into the ocean.

Dean put some weight on his hand, moving to rest on top of Cas. Dean’s thumbs traced figures on Cas’ nape, while Cas’ hands slowly paced over his terse back.

 _I'm not leaving you_ , Dean whispered.

He had no freaking idea how, but he had something that was worth fighting for and he wouldn't give up on it.

 

**A walk to the altar**

Navy blue and dark grey suit sleeves hung around their wrists.

After vows were said, Dean took Cas’ hand in his, carefully sliding a white gold ring into his finger.

Then Castiel did the same, allowing the piece of jewelry to represent the journey they’d gone through together to be there. Hands clasped tightly, they refused to let go.

Then finally, _finally_ the best and greatest announcement of their lives was made by the Archangel Gabriel himself.

Cas grabbed Dean’s shoulders and Dean’s hand rested low on Cas’ back; they embraced and settled on the decision they’d made.

They kissed with applause and playful cheers on the background.

It was the happiest day of their lives.

 

**The epilogue**

Sam smiled. His brother was in good hands.


End file.
